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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470033">on the rooftop</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzlysnare/pseuds/grizzlysnare'>grizzlysnare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gentleman Jack (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drunkenness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:02:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzlysnare/pseuds/grizzlysnare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why can’t she just be normal? Like other people’s children?” Those were the first intelligible sentences her mother had gotten out for the past few days.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>on the rooftop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>SO.</p><p>I WATCHED THE DELETED SCENE AND HAD. MANY FEELINGS.</p><p>this is something i've been wanting to write since i started reading the actual scripts, but seeing the scene actually being played out made me realise i HAD to do this. young anne was such a little twat and honestly? i live for that. </p><p>some parts of this i have taken liberties with, like the actions of the characters and anne also being drunk.</p><p>also i'll have to add more tags later (and characters, for some reason rebecca isn't listed), because for whatever reason i can't use custom ones on my phone.. anyways, ramble over, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wind was unforgiving that day, cold and forceful against Anne's face and hair as she stood atop the roof, sword in one hand, rope in the other. She didn’t know why she’d climbed onto the roof, not that it mattered; she was drunk as well as dazed from a bar fight. The cut on the bridge of her nose stung as a reminder. Nobody suspected her sex under the clothes, as far as her assailants knew, they were all just lads getting into a scuffle. Anne preferred it that way.</p><p>When she heard hurried footsteps, all slightly out of time with each other, Anne leaned forward and glanced down to the ground. Her mother, her father, and even bloody <em>Marian </em>had rushed out. Presumably a servant saw her on her way up, or from the back garden. Her mother was barely conscious with Marian hiding behind her, face already wet with tears. Her father, on the other hand, was red with anger.</p><p>"What are you <em>doing</em>?” The last word was a frustrated growl. The question annoyed Anne more than she would have liked to admit. She wanted to respond with something witty, stating the obvious back to him: <em>'</em><em>I'm standing on the roof, do you need your eyes checked, father?'</em>, but the alcohol still burning in her stomach stopped her brain out putting anything that wouldn’t immediately scratch the itch of anger.</p><p><em>"Fuck off!"</em> Her voice was raw, slightly slurred. It had a satisfying edge to it. “Just leave me alone!” She threw the rope she had used to get up in the first place at the three members of her family below. Marian flinched. Good. She’d had quite enough of her snivelling little sister since she was fresh out of the womb.</p><p>“Why can’t she just be <em>normal?</em> Like <em>other</em> people’s children?” Those were the first intelligible sentences her mother had gotten out for the past few days. </p><p><em>Oh, here we go, </em>Anne thought<em>, rich, coming from her.</em></p><p>Anne couldn’t remember a day where her mother was ever sober. She didn’t know, but that day would never come, either. Marian wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, her father looked about ready to explode. If she wasn’t under the influence, Anne probably would have come down by now. Said her apologies and gone to bed without dinner, but she was too far gone to care. What was life anyway, without a few scrapes here and there?</p><p>"You're ridiculous! You're <em>impossible!"</em></p><p>Her father was screaming at her again. Not that she cared. This high up, everything felt possible, even if her vision was swimming and her feet felt unsteady. She could probably see for miles. Anne pointed down at him with her sword.</p><p>“You’re feckless!” She pointed to her mother next, who was staring up, eyes unfocused – managing to almost lose her balance even though she was standing in one spot. “And she’s drunk! <em>As usual</em>.” The last part she added quietly, realising that it was a little hypocritical of her to make that a counter. Marian made a stupid hiccupping noise, obviously trying to silence her own crying – not that it would have much effect, her face made her emotions very obvious. <em>Oh well</em>, Anne was feeling especially spiteful at that moment. Now she knew Marian was already at the point where she couldn’t even quieten down her blubbering, she took advantage. </p><p>Slowly, Anne manoeuvred herself down the shingles some of them wobbling as she put her weight down onto them. She knew she wouldn’t fall, despite her current condition. She had climbed too many, much more sheer rooftops than this in the past few years. Wanting to scare her sister as much as possible, she even lifted a leg up slightly, her grin widening.</p><p>"Don't <em>cry </em>Marian!"</p><p>At that, Marian sobbed loudly, then buried her face into her mother’s blouse. Anne felt satisfaction on a deep, instinctual level. She supposed it wasn’t too different to when animals killed their siblings in the wild due to competition for food. It was just natural order for the elder, and stronger offspring to bully the weaker runt.</p><p>There might have been guilt somewhere, but she pushed it away too fast to even think about that properly. </p><p>"Get <em>down!"</em></p><p>Another demand from her father. She laughed, shook her head, then half-squatted where she stood, still laughing. Everything about the situation was funny to her, even the definite beating that was sure to be waiting as soon as her feet touched the earth. </p><p>At least, in this moment, she felt <em>alive. </em></p>
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